


Coastal Beaches

by TripleEbayBEE



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boats, Cliche, F/F, Fantasy, Fantasy theme, Half-orc, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, OCs - Freeform, Pining, Pirates, Romance, Slow Burn, goliath - Freeform, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleEbayBEE/pseuds/TripleEbayBEE
Summary: Basically I've got these two DnD characters and my brain won't leave me alone unless I write them falling in love. So buckle up for a wild ride of two idiots trying to find out how to share their single brain cell... and maybe how to confess their undying love and admiration. Who knows? It's just an emotionally closed off Goliath fighter trying to open up to someone other than her pet Opossum.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get started bayBEE!!

Two years in the Guild of adventures and Vol BoneCarver has never been so close to punching her “teammate”. While BoneCarver wasn’t exactly known for her ‘team spirit’ this felt a little ridiculous. This job was supposed to be easy. She had felt it best to split the party of two (it was so simple two could do it!) but her partner refused. She just couldn’t figure out what her deal was. Did she think BoneCarver was going to pocket gold or something. While BoneCarver didn’t have a squeaky clean past (who did?) She never thought others would feel the need to watch her. 

It hadn’t started so untrusting. They had met in a local tavern as the guild had instructed. BoneCarver had arrived just a bit later than Vola had but had no problem spotting the half-Orc. Despite her unassuming sailor’s outfit, she commanded the room. The patrons huddled in a small half-circle around her, watching her tell stories that had been painted onto her arms. Even the Gnome working the bar seemed to forget himself in favor of listening. BoneCarver sat content to watch as well, but her 7’6” self gave herself away. Vola stopped talking of the magnificent sea beast threatening her ship to motion BoneCarver over. 

“Hello there! You here on the guild mission with me?”

“Yeah, the goblins are a mess aren’t they.”

“Alway have been and always will be the little buggers! I’m Vola,” she pushed her free hand towards BoneCarver for a rough handshake, “it’s mighty nice to make your acquaintance there…”

“Oh, uh, my name is BoneCarver.”

“Oh! That’s a badass name there, BoneCarver! Can’t wait to watch you live up to it!” The tavern lit up with people crowding in on the two, asking for either a finished story from the half-Orc or asking the Goliath how she got her name. BoneCarver felt a flush to her cheeks as the people pushed up closer to her. Her heart beating loudly in her ears was drowning out the calls for stories. 

“Ah well, thank you everyone, but we do have work to do.” Vola stood, downing the last of her drink. “Come on then, don’t want those goblins to catch word.” BoneCarver found herself outside in the afternoon heat with Vola’s hand in hers. They weaved between the buildings out towards the countryside before Vola let go of BoneCarvers hand, “I do still expect to hear where your badass name came from.”

Now they stood in an underground tunnel surrounded by dead goblins. Blood and gore was drying uncomfortably across BoneCarvers leather armor.

Vola slaps her hand down on BoneCarvers shoulder, “That was some excellent swordsmanship there! Where did ya learn to swing a blade like that?”

BoneCarver shook off the warm (too hot) hand, “Field work does wonders to somebody’s skill.” The two women fell in a quite comfortable silence. Well maybe not a silence that could be considered comfortable but one that it was easy enough to ignore the nagging feeling of unease. 

BoneCarver absentmindedly reaches into her left side satchel to scratch BoneNibbler. Nibbles was a moderately affectionate opossum. Moderately affection was a stretch but he hardly ever bit BoneCarver any more and that was good progress. Still, as good as he was getting with her she didn’t want to bring Vola’s loud voice and overly touchy-ness onto Nibbles. Whether it was to protect the opossum or the half orc was anyone’s guess. 

Unsheathing her great sword BoneCarver approached the large door obviously separating them from the dungeons boss. Just under an hour they had cleared out most of not all goblins (it would have gone faster if Vola had let them split up but whatever) and BoneCarver just wanted it over with. She motioned vaguely towards the door as Vola ready her battle axe. Vola shrugged and made a twirling motion with her wrist before pointing to her mouth.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Vola muttered reaching out and tugging sharply against the handle. The door gave way with a loud screeching noise most of the unoiled doors in this place had. There before them stood a large throne illuminated by the full moon peaking between the gaping holes in the ceiling. She sighed as no boss made themselves known. She didn’t feel like looking and but the equally understanding and exasperated look Vola gave her, neither did she. Nonetheless they got to work and two hours later two very tired women dragged themselves out of the deserted farmhouse. 

After lugging themselves and various new loot to their prepaid inn room BoneCarver set to writing in the tomb of far speech. It was a nifty thing. A plain leather bound book smelling of summer evenings and crinkly pages allowed two or more writers to communicate no matter the distance. The guild gave every member one to write reports and revive information. While BoneCarver was not the best at reading or writing she always strived to have well done reports. The guild had only mentioned her work once and it had been mostly a drag on her handwriting but BoneCarver ignores that bit.

She sits at the small provided desk as Vola strips her blood soaked clothes off and slips into a nearly identical pair. BoneCarver recognizes it as a sailors uniform from her days on the coast. She had grown up in a port town so she didn’t really know a fair amount about sailors but she was pretty good at spotting them. Vola was the perfect example, with her perpetually windswept hair pulled back into a loose and low ponytail. That and her tattoos. While her most noticeable, a paw print high on her neck, was not particularly of sailors nature, she had shown a few children in the tavern her tattoo of an anchor with ‘the White Howl’ written across it. Topical sailor fashion. It didn’t take a genius to guess that was her first ship's name, and she told the child as much. BoneCarver needed to write this report on the dungeon, not her teammate. 

“Hey, looky here” Vola said just before shoving a paper under BoneCarver’s nose. “It’s a letter.”

“Obviously.”

“I found it in that bag of holding we snagged. I’d read it but I don’t speak goblin.” Shit, neither did BoneCarver. An awkward moment passed where Vola looked towards BoneCarver expectantly as BoneCarver finished writing a sentence.

“Um, maybe you could just copy the symbols into your tomb of farspeech?” Vola’s head tilted a little like a lost puppy as she tried to comprehend BoneCarvers idea. She yawned loudly before she seemed to reach a conclusion. It became very apparent how tired Vola had become. BoneCarver tended to forget most people didn’t have pet opossums to keep them on an odd sleep schedule. Vola hunched over the side of the desk leaning heavily onto said desk. She leaned a little closer (she was too close to start with) before leaning back. Her eyes had adopted darker brown spots underneath that BoneCarver was beginning to recognize as bags. Vola’s thick dark hair was pulling loose its tie and fell over her shoulders and in front of her face. BoneCarver really wanted to tuck it behind her ear. “Or I could! I mean you, um, you seem pretty tired and I’m more used to late nights and I am already writing my report so-” She is cut off by another yawn.

“-sorry, sorry, I’m just really tired after raging so much. It would be mighty nice of ya to transcribe it,” there was a certain slur to Vola’s words as she shuffled back towards her bed. BoneCarver strictly ignored Vola falling into the bed in favor of starting to copy the odd goblin symbols. Thankfully the symbols already resembled BoneCarvers scratchy handwriting. “Goodnight.”

BoneCarver stopped writing. She turned around, letting her eyes wonder across Vola’s form. Vola had turned on her side facing away from BoneCarver. Her hair had been let down and was cascading down her form. The thick hair was surprisingly long, settling just below the swell of her butt. BoneCarver had never really had long hair, nor was it ever well groomed. Right now her hair was haphazardly cut (she had only had a sword and was busy running at the time) and often stood upright from sleep. Long hair had never seemed to be an option, or a desire, but right now BoneCarver really wanted to know what it would feel like.

“Sleep well,” She muttered before turning back to the papers. BoneNibbler shuffled in his little pouch so BoneCarver unclasped the thing and put him on the desk. He grumbled in a way only a restless opossum could as he scrambled around on the desk. BoneCarver was careful not to let him knock over any inkwells as she wrote. He sat not very patiently but patient enough for BoneCarver to finish her report. It may have focused more on her meeting Vola than the actual mission but you can’t erase ink. BoneNibbler has started chewing on the quill before BoneCarver decided the opossum needs fresh air and a little meal. 

She glanced over to Vola’s sleeping form. She had shifted in her sleep to her stomach, her face now turned towards the Goliath. Her orcish features rested in her relaxed form. Most thought of orcs as brutish and while Vola did nothing to dismiss that notion, it was hard to think of her as brutish now. She looked almost royal in the soft candlelight. Her sharp cheekbones almost pulled BoneCarvers eyes towards Vola’s tusks. They had no jewelry, Vola only seemed to own one piece of jewelry and it was the simple gold earring through her left ear. The tusks themselves seemed small from what BoneCarver can remember of Orc’s but she had seen few Orc’s and knew even less of half-orc’s. 

A sharp hiss pulled BoneCarver out of her thoughts. A very angry opossum shuffling across the desk demanding food was a little hard to ignore. She huffed a silent chuckle before scooping the overgrown rodent into her arms and blowing out the candle. She didn’t want the light to disturb Vola.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit from Vola

It was only an hour before sunrise when BoneCarver found her way back to her room. Tired and boneless she fell into her soft soft bed. She didn’t really feel like sitting up to remove her boots and belt and BoneNibbler has already curled himself around BoneCarvers pillow that she can’t really say no. 

BoneCarver was awoken by quiet hissing. She shifted just a little bit to wrap her large hand around her sleeping opossum. She murmured something along the lines of ‘go back to sleep the half orc is just some good company from yesterday’ before an exasperated chuckle made her aware that the opossum was not the hissing being.  
“It’s real nice of you to say I’m good company and I know it’s rude to wake someone but there is an opossum in your bed and I didn’t know if you wanted it there.”

BoneCarver turned to the half orc, eyes blurry from sleep. Vola stood hovering over her bed, lips pulled into a tight line around her tusks and a hand lifted as if she was afraid of touching the sleeping goliath (BoneCarver was a little sad at the thought). Her gaze settled down to her opossum snuggling close to her head. “Yeah, nah that’s BoneNibbler. He is my opossum. Not too friendly though, best not handle him,” she took a steadying breath trying to get some sense of alertness back into her mind. It was proven futile. Then again BoneCarver didn’t think any warrior could beat the call of a soft warm bed. She settled again and quickly swept up by sleep leaving the half orc still slightly worried but far more calm than she had been before. 

Vola was not as calm as she wanted to be. The ex sailor had seen a lot of strange people out on the sea but an Opossum? Aren’t those basically overgrown rats? If so rats carry sickness, does this thing? She desperately wanted to wake her sleeping companion but she knew it wouldn’t help. Three months off the sea didn’t dare change her internal alarm clock to go right with the sun but it had taught her not to wake up others earlier than necessary. One or two fist fights had broken out because of it. Vola would much like to keep her head. A Goliath and an opossum didn’t seem like a fair fight. Where did the thing even come from. When BoneCarver stayed up late did she go buy an opossum? It doesn’t seem likely but the only other option is she had it on her yesterday and that was about as weird. 

BoneCarver sniffed and rolled over. The movement was just jarring enough to get Vola to realize she had been staring. She couldn’t help thinking she wasn’t to blame. BoneCarver had such a thin and powerful frame. The length of her body stretched out in softer clothes than Vola had ever seen her in. Her pale grey skin stood out beautifully against the dark sheets. Even with an opossum in her hair she looked surprisingly pretty. It had been the first thing Vola had noticed when she had called the Goliath over. She had been in the middle of her legendary tale about the time her ship, the White Howl, had nearly tipped when fighting a giant octopus. BoneCarver had stood at least a head taller than everyone else in the tavern. She even had to duck under lights and door frames. Her sharp gaze rested on Vola, and the small quirk upwards on her lips made Vola want to tell epic stories forever. Instead she opted to have BoneCarver come up with her. 

Vola, addmittingly, didn’t know much about goliaths. She knew they were big and loud. However, BoneCarver seemed like neither. Well, that’s not to say she wasn’t tall. She stood a full head taller than Vola herself and she was no small half-orc. BoneCarver was just really thin. It didn’t seem to be from a lack of eating, rather from a lifetime of hunger yet to be forgotten. BoneCarver definitely didn’t seem loud. The way she hunched in over herself and became very flustard when Vola had pointed her out made BoneCarver seem really timid. It was odd. Vola knew a good warrior when she saw one and boy did she see BoneCarvers incredible skills with a greatsword.  
She seemed like a whole new goliath when she swung that greatsword. Vola knew the power of a good, old-fashioned, goblin killing spree but, dang. BoneCarver really did earn her name. It was odd looking at her now. She was neither that flustered shy girl nor was she the confident killing machine of a woman. She was just BoneCarver. Still too skinny for her height, but there was a thick layer of muscles hiding under her clothes. She seemed relaxed. Vola hadn’t noticed it until it left, but now BoneCarver finally sat like there wasn’t some big thing to be terrified of. Stress was odd. Vola should stop staring. It’s creepy to watch people sleep. 

Vola decided she was hungry enough to go down any ways. The people of the Lazy Frog Tavern loved her. Well mostly they just enjoyed her stories. But she was always happy to retell the epic journeys of the White Howler and her crew. She had her whole back tattooed for it for the Gods sakes. She might as well talk about it. 

That's how she found herself sitting down with a bowl of, now cold, ‘Breakfast’ soup surrounded by her fellow patrons. She had started her stories about the nasty food served in the days before they docked as a way to make this taste better. The patrons didn’t know a thing about sailing though, so naturally Vola spent the better part of four hours explaining the complexities of sailor life to the ever shifting crowd of patrons and barmaids. She became so engrossed with her stories that one would expect her to miss the lumbering goliath. She became speechless at the sight of BoneCarver but in her defense no one is really prepared to see their goliath friend with sleep ruffled hair sticking in every direction and a sleepy opossum hanging off her shoulders. 

Vola really didn’t expect any sort of greeting when the goliath slumped into the chair next to her. The opossum falling off her shoulders and curling up into a ball while she yawned loudly was as close as she got.

“Vola, Hello? Don’t go catching flies there.” a patron chuckled.

“Sorry there pal, just didn’t expect this lug to ever get up.” BoneCarver, basically growls, her amusement. She sits up, the normal tension in her shoulders melts off of her as she turns to Vola. BoneCarvers teeth are bared in a feral smile. Her choice of pet doesn’t seem so odd, with opossums being the mammal with the most teeth.  
“Some of us went and found ourselves with a nocturnal lifestyle.” Her smile seemed both annoyed and amused just like her voice. The pair were dragged down by sleep, but surprisingly, her violet eyes were spared from the same droopiness. 

BoneCarvers opossum scrambled upright to defend its owner… Vola couldn’t really decipher what exactly was threatening the opossum. Opossums are odd little creatures. Their fat faces hold too many teeth, and too small eyeballs. But Vola could not call them ugly. Feral, yes, especially this one. Its short, grey, tangled hair poofed up as it hissed at nearby patrons. Most of Vola's crowd had fled back to their own tables. Vola doesn’t seem to mind but she can’t say why exactly. She should be angry. This little thing just chased off her new friends. She glanced up to inform BoneCarver of such atrocities but the words died on her tongue. BoneCarver’s lips were no longer drawn back into a smile, rather pressed together in thought. She was hunched closer to Vola looking both more awake and asleep. Her eyes stared intently at Vola. Despite the violet orbs barring into her sole, Vola didn’t think they were staring at her. Maybe she should go back to bed. When Vola eventually glanced around the tavern. The whole place was sitting on needles. She knows they are waiting on the two guild members to break the odd tension. The question is how? “What’s its name,” She mumbles lamely into her mug. Brilliant bit of conversation, Vola. Especially loved the part where you called her beloved pet an ‘it’. “It’s- a- his name is- um- BoneNibbler,” BaneCarver says. She hides her quickly flushing face in her big hands. 

“Oh, so he matches you?” Vola says dumbly, “That’s pretty cool.” She sets her mug down to look BoneCarver in the eye. Harder than expected but no one really expects a opossum to start crawling around the bar top. “I’ve always wanted a dire-wolf for a pet but I wouldn’t be able to pick such a cool name.” 

That draws a laugh from BoneCarver. She finally brings her hands back down to the wooden bar. Her soft smile illuminating her face. “I could always help you with that. I’ve got it on good authority that I pick good names,” she teases. Vola snorts as she gently pushes BoneCarver away. BoneCarver’s giggles quickly turn into full blown laughter which only succeeded in making Vola laugh harder. Soon they couldn’t even look at each other without laughing harder.

“Let’s get this girl some good food. She deserves it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDk... i've written most of this together and then "Proofread" them separately so I could post more consistently. But If I know myself, which I do, I will write way too much...

**Author's Note:**

> Vibes Vibes Vibes... I didn't really proofread this :/ It's 2020 Quarantine and I've got to procrastinate somehow. Wrote this instead of graduating.


End file.
